Misery Business
by FloatingAmoeba
Summary: Written for the Chit Chat on Author's Corner Fanfic Challenge 2010. With a little help, David Rossi faces up to the one thing that scares him most - old age.


A/N This is fairly random. It's my entry for Round Three of ilovetvalot's Fanfic Challenge 2010. I was given Rossi/Garcia, and my three items to include were Scotch, analog phone, and a wireless network. It was hard, you guys! Oh yeah, and I've taken some liberties with ages and stuff, based loosely on the actor's ages themselves. Enjoy!

Disclaimer: I don't own anything to do with Criminal Minds, and this is purely a hypothetical situation. Title from Paramore.

* * *

She hesitates at the foot of the stairs, because it's dark. She's not as bad as Reid, but now she knows what the darkness breeds and knowledge and trepidation walk hand in hand.

Garcia swallows, her throat dry. The dying embers in the fire make everything orange.

She only wants a glass of water.

"Garcia?"

She doesn't mean to scream, but she does, and she clamps a hand over her mouth before she can wait anybody else.

A side lamp is switched on, and as a dark head peers around the high-backed armchair, Garcia breathes a sigh of relief.

"Holy cheesecake, Agent Rossi, you scared me!"

David attempts a smile, the corner of his mouth twitching, and pushes his glasses back up his nose.

"Not my intention."

Her irritation is gone, charmed away by the senior agent's smooth tenor and arched eyebrow. She chuckles, hugging her fluffy dressing gown tighter.

"It's late. What are you still doing up?" she asks, and the smile Rossi has been trying to press down breaks free as he realizes that Garcia's mothering doesn't stop when the sun sets.

He waves a vague hand at his laptop, then points to the analogue phone beside it. It's bulkiness is a comfort, he thinks.

"My editor called, and informed me, in no short terms, that my next book was long overdue."

"The pressures of being a world famous author," she quips, and Rossi smiles on cue, "so what's the hold up?"

"Technology hates me," he says simply. Garcia laughs, the idea ridiculous to a self-proclaimed tech goddess.

"Now, sir, that can't be true."

He nods seriously.

"It is."

"What's the problem?"

It's been a long time since somebody wanted to listen and Rossi isn't sure how to handle it, because the problem is more than technology hates him.

He fills a glass with Scotch and pushes it towards her, ignoring her arched eyebrow.

"Why, Agent Rossi. I might think you were trying to take advantage of me."

Her teasing tone is not lost on him, and Rossi manages a low chuckle and a wink before his reply is lost in the bottom of his glass.

"Trust me, kitten. I'm too old to be taking advantage of anybody."

He runs a hand over his face and for the first time, Garcia sees him as the ageing man he has spent years trying to hide.

And she doesn't like it.

"Now you listen to me, David Rossi," she says firmly, "I don't know what kind of pipe you've been smoking, and I don't know what's brought on this tidal wave of self-pity, but you better snap out of it. Don't make me wipe your hard drive."

Rossi is thinking. He doesn't know what that means. He drains his glass, fills it up again, but leaves it standing on the table.

"It's JJ's birthday," he begins, "She just turned 32."

Garcia's confusion creases her brow.

"Yeah..." she agrees, and wonders if she's missing something. Rossi curls his fingers around the glass and the amber liquid seems to burn in his eyes.

Maybe it's the fire.

"That's half my age," he says, his voice so low she has to strain to hear it.

She doesn't have the answer. She doesn't know what to tell him, because age is one of those endless tunnels that keeps coming back for more.

"Look at what you've done since coming back to the BAU, sir," Garcia points out, a beacon of light to his darkness, "All the good you've done. That's more than people do in a lifetime."

Rossi can't hold her down any longer, so he smiles reassuringly, and nods.

"I know, kitten. I'm just having one of those days. You're right."

Realizing that maybe this was one time she needed to leave it alone, Garcia laughs, and stands up.

"When aren't I?"

He rolls his eyes. "Goodnight, Garcia."

"'Night, sir."

Garcia pauses on the first step.

"Agent Rossi?"

"What is it, Garcia?"

"I know technology hates you, but you're like a wireless network to me."

She waits for him to glance around at her before continuing.

"Ageless."


End file.
